


Still Waters

by XP1



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Agony, Anger, Caring, Christmas carol, Comfort, Dana Scully - Freeform, Developing Relationship, Emily - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode s7e5, F/M, Feelings, Fox Mulder - Freeform, Love, MS relationship, MSR, Missing Scene, Mulder and Scully - Freeform, UST, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 22:51:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13397958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XP1/pseuds/XP1
Summary: Her body was close, but she pulled her head back so he could see her more fully.  Openly. Completely. He felt pain in his chest at the surety of her face.“Even so, Mulder, the answer is no.”





	Still Waters

He’d said it himself, and now he’d lived to regret it. He told her that this was never meant to be. Never meant to be hers, he’s sure, he’d implied along with it. He saw her lose faith in the world and herself as the judge told her “No” and wouldn’t be budged.

He’d taken her home and they’d started to talk. But then came the call, and it led them to her child. A sick child, now, who he’s watched her love with all of herself.

A woman came to speak to her, to tell her to stop. She came back from that angry, determined, and he thought of how he could help and... God it was so simple! Or at least...it would stall them. Throw custody in question, then they couldn’t deny her, or she'd at least have the right to keep up with the treatments...right?

She sailed quickly by him on the winds of her anger. He wasn’t sure she’d seen him, and she was halfway back to moving back into quarantine, to be with her child, to let herself love, and to love her as well.

He needed to tell her that they could solve the problem. He walked quickly to catch up to her before she could step into a gown.

"Scully-!... hold on." He grabbed the door jam he’d passed through to slow him down. She swallowed and angled her head up to him.

They were far enough apart that he could see all of her from her head to her toes, brilliant bright red to deep navy blue. She seemed to him tall and trim and fundamentally sad, and she wore the flat affect of the profoundly depressed.

‘Still waters run deep’, was the warning in his mind.

He took a few small steps towards her. His shoes were almost too loud on the plasticine halls of the hospital corridor. He jerked his head towards a room and she almost didn’t follow. But he seemed like he’d found something, so she sighed and followed him, and then they were alone.

She put her hands on her hips and turned to face him. The terseness of her lips and the shadow in her eyes relayed to him how hard this had been, and how close to the surface she was.

He came up in front of her, and wanted to touch her face, but stopped himself midway, the fault of some unknown impulse that made him hold back. She stared at his tie and his hand waved little feeble motions before it mercifully came to rest at his side.

He put a hand to his hip and rubbed the other across his lips, across his jaw. He looked around, nervous, and then spoke to her, low.

"We could get married." he said, and almost as soon as the word came out she was shaking her head slowly no, no.

He carried on, undaunted. “Scully hear me out...”

“Mulder...” she said, beginning a thought. She stopped speaking, instead, and rubbed a hand on her forehead, pressing slightly, tired.

She sighed. “God, you just have the worst timing.”

He looks surprised. “I...what do you...mean…”

“I can’t take more surprises today Mulder. I’m...I’m dead on my feet”.

He furrowed his brow. “Surprises. Scully.” He thought a moment and she rubbed her eyes. “Are you saying you didn’t...that with the judge...” he floundered. He dipped his head toward her, concerned and quiet. “...is this how you found out? I thought it was just the stuff about your ova but-”

She shrugged slightly and shook her head. “Kind of, I suppose. It’s...the first time I’ve heard it. Out loud.”

“Scully…”

“I’ve seen the files, the records, and I mean... I’ve had blood work done, tests…” she looked away, to the side. Her arms came around her waist, holding herself.

“But then my nose started bleeding.” She said. “And I…”

She’s quiet for a moment.

“It was the least of my concerns.” she finished, swallowing.

“I’m... -so- sorry, I never -”

“I know.” she cuts in, warm. “I know. It’s a...difficult conversation to have at the best of times.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Scully, I still…”, he pauses, considering ”...we still should have had it. Had that...talk.”

She shakes her head slowly to emphasize her words: “It doesn’t matter now.”

“Of course it does-.” he hissed, incredulous, but she cut him off.

“It doesn’t, right now. It’s moot. It won’t help to debate it.” She closed her eyes. “Not now.”

He’s not sure what to say. He decides to repeat himself.

“Scully,” he began, as he drew the tip of a finger on the sharp curve of the hair framing her face. He thought he saw her feel it, and hoped that it would help.

“We could get married.” he said. He dropped his hand, and his eyes. “Or, rather...you could get married. I uh…” he rocked on his heels and blushed, hot. “I don’t...mean to...imply or...presume…” he tugged his tie open slightly and exhaled sharply through his nose.  
She smiled softly at him, and spoke to save him from himself.

“No.” she said, warmly, solidly, from the depths of her chest.

“We could do it right now. There’s a chapel upstairs. We could….we could amend the application, we could have it seen before end of today, we could-”

“Mulder.” she said. “Stop.” She’d said it directly, but when she repeated it it was almost inaudibly soft. “Stop”.

“I…” he pursed his lips in thought. He saw the dejection in the droop of her head. “I’m sorry I was cold. Through this. You didn’t deserve it. I just wanted to steel you, before. When she was healthy...and now…” She looked away, head still slowly shaking.

“I’m not expressing...myself...correctly. Or very well. Or even…” He sighed and brought his hands to her biceps, stepped a bit closer. He whispered to her so closely his words stirred what loose strands of hair she had at her crown. “I...I need you to know that there’s...meaning...behind this, what I’m saying, or, asking...that this isn’t…”.

She put a hand to his chest and patted once, then rubbed. He wasn’t sure who the touch was meant to console. He couldn’t watch a child die, he thought, and God help him he could not watch her do the same. He bit his lip to still some of the depths of his feelings. His breathing was ragged, but she moved closer, rubbed the tension he was putting on his jaw.

“I know.” she told him, tipping her head up. The tip of her nose brushed his chin. “I know you. I know.” His jaw clenched and the lids of his eyes were hot with the promise of tears.

“Relax”. She asked of him. He tried, took a breath. “Relax.” she repeated, and so he was, after a moment.

“It’s just that it’s urgent, Scully, that’s all.” He brought his forehead to hers, and they pressed against each other slightly. “We just don’t have the time. But we will.” he told her, and also himself.

She took her hand from his chest, and brought both of hers to the top of his belt. He tried breathing very evenly as the pads of her fingers rested on the thin edge of the leather. The poke of her nails was reassuring on his stomach, rather than electric, and though there was a slight charge to it, her pinprick caresses stilled him to peace.

She pulled his belt away slightly, just a sliver, and curled her first knuckles down. The backs of her nails and fingertips were flush on his waist, and she wriggled them idly as they stood and they talked.

Her body was close, but she pulled her head back so he could see her more fully, openly. He felt pain in his chest at the surety of her face.

“Even so, Mulder, the answer is no.”

He tried to back away, but her hands kept him from going far. “Mulder-”

“Why?” he said, astounded. “It solves a problem, doesn’t it?”

“No. No, not if it causes that many more.”

He stammered, getting angry. “This could be the solution!” he hissed, quiet, licking his lips. “This could help us get you what you want!”

“It’s not what I want.”

“...What?...”

She swallowed and let honesty into her eyes. He breathed hard at the openness of her and he told himself to focus, to remember, that this was important, warning, danger, listen, you fool.

“I don’t want that life.” she said, direct. “I want my life. With her, if possible, or if needed, sure.” She tightened and then released her hands at his waist, steadying herself. “But I want my life above all else.”

She frowned and tears welled. “It may be selfish. I-” she swallowed hard and took a moment to compose.

“You-” he began, but she cut him off.

“I’m not finished. Listen.” she said, softly, tugging lightly at him.

He calmed and he nodded. He could control himself. It’s just he was seeing so much red right now and-

She thanked him with a slow blink, and kept going.

“Listen.” she continued. “She is my child. But you were right. You were right.” Her eyes were hard as she looked at him. “She is not my daughter. This was not meant to be. We are strangers to each other, brought together by circumstance.”

His hands tensed on her bicep and he couldn’t make sounds. His mouth worked, open, confused, unbelieving. He brought his head down to her brow and his heat and his anger met her cool understanding.

"No", he said softly, kissing her forehead. “No” he mouthed wetly, angry, and he thread a hand through her hair, tilted up her mouth.

“Yes.” she said softly, and he had trouble breathing. She was working hard to stay calm, and to help calm him down. She pulled her head back again slightly, and he realized his grip. He softened his touch into a caress instead.

“Mulder, I know...I know I’m all she has left.” Her head moved back slowly so he could see her as she spoke. “But that does not make a family, and that’s not what we’d be.”

He tried to protest.

“I’m not her mother, I know, I know that I’m...not.” She shook her head lightly, felt his fingers in her hair. “But I'm all she has, and I speak for her now-

“No, not you-” he broke his promise cut her off. “Us.” he moved both hands to her back and held her in close. “Us.” he pled. “Please.” and he breathed his next words into the curl of her ear.

“Please don’t think you’re alone. That you have to do this...alone.”

She trailed her cheek against his as she pulled her face back, but one hand left his belt and mirrored his own, wrapping around him, pressing between his shoulders.

Her lip twitched up once, a quantum smile. “I misspoke.” she smiled at him softly and left it between them for a moment. “Sorry.” she said. “But still-”

“We can do this. Whatever she needs, whatever you need, a house, a job, doctors, meds-”

“We could.” she agreed. “But I won’t.” she informed. “I will not. I won’t do any than what wouldn't come naturally through the course of...whatever this is”.

“Why?” he said, anguished, not understanding.

”Because I don’t want to.” she said, putting a hand on his cheek, brushing a thumb on his lips. He bit the pad of it lightly while he tried to figure things out.

“I don’t want that life. I don’t want to leave my job, my apartment, my...my work, myself-”

“What are you-”

“I like my -life-.”

“Scul-

“ -My- life.”. She tried to make him understand with the strength of her words. “And it wouldn’t change anything, really. I see that now.”

“Then I’ll do it.” he said plainly, obvious, like, oh, of course. “I’ll leave the Bureau, I’ll get the house, I’ll change lives, I’ll be her family for you and you can take your t-”

“That would be worse,“ she said, rubbing his lips. The hand at his back held him to her strongly, closely. He was breathing hard, halfway to crying, to grief, to anger, to rage.

“I can’t let her-

“You’re so noble…” she said, wistful, a not quite revelation. She shook her head as she looked at him, at his lips with their small curl of a snarl starting under her touch. “...and it makes you so blind.”

The sneer was now full and she almost heard a growl. His hands left her body and he tried to step away. She moved her hand from his belt and grabbed the shirt under his tie, keeping him, not letting him run, bold, but not harsh. The hand at his back moved to his side, and pressed him lightly at his ribs.

His eyes were furious, and the energy of this urgency he was holding back, for her!, wanted to come out. “Then you’re wasting your time.” he hissed harshly to her.

“No, I’m not.” She said warmly, melting him a little. “Please.” She asked “Listen.” She held his shirt lightly, and in a moment let go, smoothing it, smoothing him, soothing the rage that he felt. She kept her palm on his breast and felt his heart pounding but her small touches and sounds chilled the heat of his anger with the cool of her resolve. He breathed deeply and grounded himself upon her foundation. He felt fury leave him in hard breaths and small amounts. When he’d come down from rage to just plain old mad, he put his hand to the back of her neck, squeezed once, grit his teeth, closed his eyes, and gave a terse nod.

“Thank you.” she told him, grateful, understanding. He softened further when he saw her struggle to get the next part out.

“The truth is-” she said frowning, swallowing hard. The hand at his chest started to shake, and he put his own over it, holding it there. Pain flit through her features as she considered the words she would use but she fought it back, because pain was of no use to her right now.

“The reality-” she continued, “is that she doesn’t have time. We don’t…” she swallowed her sentence and tried to still herself. His breathing was quickening again, but with grief. He held the hand at his chest tightly, squeezing, releasing, wrapping his fingers in hers. His free arm went around her, at her waist, almost like dancing, keeping her steady, keeping her tall.

“She doesn’t have time”.

“Scully we’ll-”

“She’s dying,” she said, and gasped his name “Mulder.”

“I won’t let that happen,” he hissed, anger rising again, but this time he didnt let go, and instead held her tighter.

“She is dying, and we will fight, but we will not stop this.” Her eyes shone at her words and the presence of water.

“We saved you.” He said gently.

“And we don’t know how. We don’t have time. It’s over. It’s a question of when.”

“You don’t believe that.”

She sighed. “I...I go back and forth. I...know in my heart and my mind what will happen. They just sometimes don’t agree when they should, that’s all.” He closed his eyes and when he opened them his lashes were wet.

She continued, taking a breath. “Are there things we could do? Maybe. And we are. We will do them.” she squeezed the hand joined to hers. “But would it be right? For her?"

Herface showed the pain again and it came out in her words" Christ, Mulder...I’m a grown federal agent...but the chemo was so hard..."

He had no answer. She pressed onwards, sad, but certain.

“She is my responsibility, by chance, but not by right.” She cried tears without weeping as they grieved with each other, their twin sadness mingling at the collision of their breath.

“I will fight you on this.” he said, not unkindly.

“I know. So will I." she told him, committed. He kissed the tips of her fingers as she continued. "Mulder if anyone could save her…it would be you.”

“You’re the doctor.”

“You’re the dreamer.” she said smiling sadly. She kissed the side of his face. “It won’t help to get married, just to win her, just to... to spend her whole life in pain. For our nobility. Our needs. For you. For me.”

“For us.” he said, solemnly, by way of reminder.

She nodded. “Us.” she said warmly, by way of agreement.

He brushed away the streaks of her tears with his thumb.

“I love you.” she said.

“I-”

“And thank you for asking. But the answer needs to be…” she trailed off, dipping her head. “It needs to be ‘no’. I’m sorry.” she said and she was starting to weep, but her kissed her forehead warmly and rubbed her back gently, grounding her, with his touch, as she'd done to him.

“Don’t. Don’t be. I...you’re right. You’re right. I just get so...so goddamn blinded by-”

“I know. I know you.”

“Scully-” he started, intending to say back those three little words.

“Mulder, please. Please.” Her eyes begged, exhausted, at the effort of her honesty. “I...I can’t take more surprises today.”

He threw her a sad smile, dipped his head forward and pressed his lips to hers lightly. Just enough to prove a point.

She very nearly sobbed and he thought it wise to pull back. The stress of the day was making her shake. Dead on her feet. Take her home, said his brain.

He tapped the tip of a finger to the tip of her nose, and the surprise and tenderness of it made her scrunch up her face at the touch and then smile.

He smiled back, and said gently. “Wouldn’t be a surprise, I hope...”

“Mul-”

“But it’s been a long day.” he interjected and she seemed grateful, and relaxed just a bit. “We’re gonna go back to my hotel, just us, and we’ll sort this all out.”

“I...I should stay to make sure that they-”

“Just an hour, then we can come back. Please.” he said warmly. “ Just rest enough to keep fighting.” She looked at the room that contained the dying child. "Sixty minutes Scully." he said. "We can start the clock right now."

She nodded slowly. “Okay." she said, tired. “Alright. Deal.”

He nodded with kindness in his eyes. “Deal.” he agreed.

She waited a moment, steadying herself. He felt the honesty she’d summoned for him, for them, recede with the stiffening of her joints, the tension in her muscles. She set her jaw and found her hard professional self. He saw grey take over from the wet refracted blue of her eyes. Her job was not done. She had already indulged too much, lost too much time.

She disengaged from him slowly, distancing herself. He let her go, and she was grateful and said so with a small smile.

“Bring the car ‘round?” she asked him.

“Of course.” he nodded.

“I’m just gonna-” she stuck a thumb in the direction of the washrooms.

“Yep. I’ll get the car.”

Her footsteps came first and then his followed. They were paces apart when she suddenly turned back and called out.

“Mulder.”

He stopped and turned to her, tilting his head.

Her tongue ran over her lips, and she chewed lightly at her mouth. “Ask me-” she said, weakly, but the started again, stronger. Her eyes raised to his and the blue was a little more rich. “Ask me again, when this is all over.”

He didn’t have words, and she had turned and started walking away anyway. “If I survive this”, she added, more to herself.

He grinned and he watched her walk a moment longer, finding purpose in her anguish, using it as he weapon, perparing to fight.

In a whisper, he told her, as he turned around, that next time, he promised, he'd get the timing right.

**Author's Note:**

> I read a fic recently that saw Mulder ask Scully a question in regards to this episode. I thought it was a neat idea, so I developed it...more.


End file.
